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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367451">S.O.S.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaMega/pseuds/PandaMega'>PandaMega</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Comedy, Derek Hale is a Failwolf, Dick Pics, Failwolf Friday, Funny Stiles Stilinski, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Sexual Tension, UST</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaMega/pseuds/PandaMega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles 2:13AM: "I haven’t slept in like 3 days and every time I try to jack off I either think of Derek or my Dick Mark which is way less cool than a Dark Mark but just as cursed."</p><p>OR</p><p>Derek checks Scott's phone and sees more than he bargained for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>555</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>S.O.S.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is one of my favorite fics that I've ever written  because it's so freaking hilarious to me and I hope you all love it!</p><p>This fic is pure comedy and awkward failwolfing but there is some mention of potential skin cancer but no actual cancer in this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hindsight is 20/20. That’s something Derek has learned time and again. He’s made mistakes that have ruined him, ruined people around him, and unfortunately, most of those mistakes were pretty mundane things that didn’t even seem like mistakes at the time. That’s just how things go when you have Derek’s luck. You do something that seems fine and it turns out to be a terrible, terrible mistake, the one domino that causes everything around it to collapse. He knows this, yet time and again, he falls for it, tips that domino, because it never seems like a problem at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Derek sees the incoming text reading “SOS” from Stiles come through on Scott’s phone, he doesn’t think twice about opening it. Sure, it’s Scott’s phone, not his, but Stiles is having an emergency. Derek can help. It’s when the next message comes through that Derek realizes what a devastating mistake he’s made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a photo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a close-up photo from a low angel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Specifically, Stiles’s junk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles fingers are wrapped around his half-hard cock, and Stiles has drawn a shaky red circle around a small dark dot on the flushed skin of the underside of his penis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can’t stop looking. He knows he should. But Stiles’ dick is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that Stiles is covered in beauty marks is old news. The fact that Stiles has one on his dick is, well, something else. Something Derek had never considered. Now that the truth is right in front of him, his brain is locked onto that fact and not letting go. All other brain functions have ceased. The only other thought floating in his head right now is an intense need to verify this new knowledge first-hand, in person, preferably with his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally regains enough composure to tear his eyes away from the photo he sees the frantic messages following the image.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span>“DUDE”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“I THINK I HAVE A DICK EMERGENCY??”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“CAN YOU ASK YOUR MOM SOMETHING REAL QUICK?”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“IS THIS CANCER?”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“DO I HAVE DICK CANCER?”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“It’s on the underside, I’ve never seen the dark side of my dick before, I was not prepared for this”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“I have no idea if it’s always been there or if it’s a new development or what??”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“What do I do??”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p><span>Derek shakes his head, half to clear it, half because, </span><em><span>seriously</span></em> <em><span>Stiles</span></em><span>. He decides to put him out of his misery and types out “It’s just a beauty mark. Calm down.”</span></p><p>
  <span>When Scott returns and takes his phone back, he glances through his messages and throws a panicked look at Derek because it’s obvious what he’s seen. Derek throws Scott the most threatening look he can muster (which is really very threatening) and says, “Never speak of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott nods emphatically and leaves with a quickness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night Derek tries very hard not to think of the image, which leads to him thinking instead of how Stiles made the discovery, which leads to Derek remembering that Stiles’ dick was half-hard in the picture which means it was probably hard when he first saw the beauty mark which means he was probably jacking off and watching himself either in a mirror or on his phone camera which is an image that Derek absolutely should not have conjured. Fuck. Derek is so fucked. The Sheriff is absolutely going to murder him and he will </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the week passes about as normally as one would expect in Beacon Hills, and Derek tries his absolute hardest to avoid thinking about flushed dicks and beauty marks and amber eyes and pink lips and avoid Stiles as a concept all around in general, which also goes about as well as one would expect. When he finds himself with Scott’s phone again he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> to ignore the text from Stiles that says “I found ANOTHER one” and the accompanying photos but he looks anyway. What if Stiles was talking about another monster of the week? Or another dead body? Or another - nope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s another beauty mark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right on his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right on the crease where his ass meets the back of his upper thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And damn is that a nice picture? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Look at that camera angle. Very flattering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles has the camera pointed at a mirror this time. His back is bare and facing the mirror, smooth and muscled and dotted with a constellation of freckles that Derek wants to study religiously. Stiles’ back is arched so he can turn to look over his shoulder to take the picture. One leg is propped up on a chair and he’s only wearing tight red briefs and he’s pulling them to the side with one hand to reveal the smooth underside of one creamy globe with that little beauty mark peeking out. And Derek is a bad, bad man. He’s holding the phone in his hands with his claws popped out because they are just itching to rip those little red briefs right off Stiles’ virgin ass and he is going to the Worst Hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ texts keep on coming.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span>"I have so many I've lost count”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“I don't even know how many I have!”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“How am I supposed to keep track of them?!”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>It takes Derek a monumental effort not to reply and offer his services. </span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span>“What if one of them is malignant??”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“What if they turn against me??” </span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“I wouldn't even notice! “</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“What if I keep getting new ones until I'm covered in them?”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Dude I'm getting a complex!!”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Do I need to start like, charting them so I know when something’s wrong?!”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Derek closes the screen and puts the phone away because this is not something he can handle without thinking of all the ways he would very much love to chart Stiles’ body. He makes a resolution right there and then to never, ever, under any circumstances touch Scott’s phone again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It goes about as well as one would expect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Literally 24 hours later, after fighting some completely unnecessary beast and bleeding all over his car, Derek gets a call from Stiles, which turns out to be Scott using Stiles’ phone Scott asks if his phone is in Derek’s car and if he can bring it to Stiles’ house. Then there’s a scuffling on the other end of the line and Stiles’ voice can be heard through the receiver hissing indignantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WAIT, you left your phone in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Derek’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> car? No, no </span>
  <em>
    <span>no no-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” And the two proceed to argue before the line goes dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek goes to his car and finds the phone between the seats, and of course there are a multitude of texts from Stiles which he has no intention of reading except, oops, his finger slipped and he’s scrolling through them. They read like a roller-coaster off the rails but he just can’t stop.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>From Stiles 2:14 AM</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Dude I think I have a problem”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Either A) I have a fetish for blood, which, gross (not to kinkshame, but, ew)”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Or B) I have a thing for Derek, who just happens to always be covered in blood every time I see him and get awkward boners.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Derek should really stop there, because, wow, that’s a lot to take in, but there’s more, and Derek’s already dug his grave this deep he might as well lay in it too.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>From Stiles </span>
    </em>
    <span>2:30 AM</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Also be honest with me here, how unattractive is my dick mole?”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Like, on a scale of 1-10”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“one being “I guess I’d touch it if you paid me” and 10 being “not if you were the last man on earth and I was a raging homosexual AND you paid me a million bucks” ? Not that a million bucks would mean anything in the theoretical post apocalyptic wasteland where we’re the last men on earth but not the point”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Like am I doomed to be a virgin forever?” </span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Will anyone ever want to touch me? “</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“I’m like really stressed out and weirdly fixated on this issue man.”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“Also I haven’t slept in like 3 days and every time I try to jack off I either think of Derek or my Dick Mark which is way less cool than a Dark Mark but just as cursed. “</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Honestly he’s feeling too many conflicting emotions right now to function properly. And Stiles has no idea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No Idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because Derek wants, Derek wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>so bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wants to touch and taste and </span>
  <em>
    <span>devour</span>
  </em>
  <span> every inch of Stiles’ body, wants to map every mark on his pale skin and </span>
  <em>
    <span>worship</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. Wants to add his own marks, claiming him with his lips and teeth and claws and cum. Stiles is beautiful. Stiles is tempting and desirable and </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He has no idea what he does to Derek.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>New Text From Stiles</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“DEREK.”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“IF YOU FOUND SCOTTS PHONE”</span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <span>“DON’T READ ANY OF THE MESSAGES”</span>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Incoming Call from Stiles</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Derek sighs, clears his head of indecent thoughts and picks up because the only thing better than torturing himself is torturing Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DEREK.” Stiles voice is frantic, “Heyyyy, so you found Scott’s phone huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grunts in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soooo, did you look at the messages?” Scott can be heard cackling in the background until it sounds like Stiles throws something at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sighs longsufferingly and thinks about lying mercifully and saying something like ‘what messages?’ but that would be too easy. He’s suffered too much mental agony on account of Stiles and he’s not about to just let it go. He thinks up the perfect line to deliver the most satisfying result.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles,” he says in his most deadpan voice, “I’m sure you have a beautiful penis and anyone would be lucky to touch it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is silence on the line for a long moment before Stiles makes a wheezing, dying animal noise, and Scott can be heard failing to suppress a gurgling howl of laughter. Then Stiles hangs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lets himself bask in a moment of satisfaction before confronting the issue of confronting Stiles once he gets back. He’ll have to play the bigger man, the adult, pretend that everything is fine and he isn’t secretly lusting back at Stiles. Luckily, when he reaches the Stillinski house, Scott has been kicked to the curb so the issue of confronting Stiles is thankfully postponed. He isn’t sure he’s ready to face his demons yet, considering even the thought of seeing Stiles summons images of his soft mouthful of a pink cock and the little marks all over his body that make Derek salivate and his dick grow restless in his pants. Add to that the new knowledge that Stiles thinks of him while jerking off and Derek is pretty much in the Danger Zone in Stiles were ever to come near him. He already knew he was going to a hell before all this but now his place in the Special Hell is locked in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott retrieves his phone from Derek, still cackling like a hyena, and Stiles can be faintly heard in his room suffering some kind of aneurism. Derek revels in this weird moment of peace before it all comes crashing down like he knows it will. He’s certainly not hoping it all comes crashing down in the hot, sweaty, needy way he keeps fantasizing about. Then again, he’s already going to the special hell, so what difference does it make right?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There will be a very smutty sequel, stay tuned :)<br/>Comments keep me motivated! Feed the beast!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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